Rumours
by littlewhitetruth
Summary: One shot. There have been some shocking whispers going around Camelot, and Arthur needs to find out what they are. Rated K-plus for kisses.


Rumours

(This is my first Merthur fic and was written after about 35 hours of being awake so don't be too harsh! Inspired by a troll I met on Omegle who helped Merlin come to terms with his beautiful gay feelings for Arthur. Rated T for gay kisses :3. I'd like to think that the Merthur smoochy time doesn't affect the quality of this drabble. R&R 3)

"MERLIN?"

The familiar voice echoed around the walls of the Prince's chambers, and in less than thirty seconds Arthur's servant had started rushing towards the source of it, heart thumping loudly. He only usually shouted like that if something had gone terribly, terribly wrong. Merlin wished that it wasn't to do with the rumours that he had overheard from Morgana; if it was found out that he knew, then he'd be punished severely. Not the daughter of the king of Camelot, she'd deny ever hearing them if it meant seeing Merlin suffer. Homosexuality was just not tolerated.

Obviously the rumours could not be true, but Merlin couldn't help but hope that he didn't imagine the prince glancing at him more than once in a while. It was stupid, of course it was: whoever heard of a prince falling for his own servant, especially since Arthur treated him like dirt. Swallowing his fears, Merlin knocked thrice on the oak doors before entering.

The prince was sat on his four poster bed, leant forwards with his fingers interlocked in his lap. He was wearing an odd combination of worn leather gloves, a white shirt and dark blue breeches. His feet were bare, so Merlin presumed that his boots would need scrubbing. He added that to his mental list of things to do using magic.

Arthur's face was drawn in concentration – or Merlin supposed that was what it was. His blonde hair – which some may have said was too long – fell just short of his sky-blue eyes. His head rose just enough for Merlin to be able to see him properly, in all his handsomeness. Obviously, Merlin knew that he was a mere servant, and a male one at that, but all the same…

"Merlin, I have received news from Lancelot that the horned beasts have returned to our realm. I have instructed my knights on our plans, however I need my armour polished and my sword sharpened by nightfall, is that clear?" His voice was low, but had a business-like tone to it. Merlin presumed that this was because the news had not travelled around the kingdom. He doubted very much that Uther would want the citizens of Camelot to know that they were in danger. Surely Gaius would know? He'd be able to craft some poisoned arrows at this kind of notice. Merlin had seen him gather the ingredients for and concoct a sleeping draft in less than three hours. Nightfall was easily five hours away.

"Come out of dreamland now, if you please, Merlin" Arthur's drawling words brought him down to Earth, "an answer within the next week would be helpful."

"Of course, Sire. I'll just see to it now." Merlin mumbled, keeping his eyes low. He glanced up through his eyelashes to see Arthur get to his feet, and start pacing the room, his footsteps the only sound in the otherwise silent bedchambers.

Merlin turned to leave before he heard a loud intake of breath behind him. He turned around to see that Arthur had stopped pacing, yet still that that serious look on his face.

"There was another thing I wanted to ask you about." Merlin's already fast heartbeat turned almost frantic. "Bear in mind that if you lie to the heir of the throne of Camelot then I can talk to people about having you banished." His tone was almost disinterested, but his desperation was betrayed in the slight tremble at the end of his sentence. There was no way that Merlin could deny that he needed to tell him the truth, not just due to the threat of banishment. It was just because Merlin _owed_ him so much.

"I have been informed, Merlin, that the court have been talking about me behind my back. As you are the most mobile person that I know of in this kingdom, I was hoping that you would know something of these whispers." Arthur spoke even quieter than he had before, and Merlin had never seen him look more vulnerable. As the two boys made eye contact, the anxiety in the prince's irises made him feel almost a little bit uncomfortable.

"…Well," Merlin was struggling for the best way to phrase it, so that he wouldn't embarrass himself or the prince.

Arthur's eyes flitted to the door, and then back to Merlin.

"Sire, I… that is to say," Merlin stammered heavily, feeling his ears turn pink, "…I personally think that the speculations aren't true, b-but-"

"Merlin," Arthur took a step towards him. "I couldn't care less about what you and your little head have made of the rumours; just tell me what they are. Words don't hurt me." His voice grew a little stronger; head held slightly higher.

"You haven't ever found a woman to your taste… that is to say… you'd prefer to wed a man." Merlin thought the words came out too quickly and too harshly, and for that he could feel his cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson.

Arthur's face was oddly blank. Merlin has suspected that he'd be irritated at the least, but his smooth expression betrayed no emotion. "That's… interesting."

"In what way, Sire?"

"Is it any of your business?" Arthur snapped, causing Merlin to flinch slightly. He paused, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Well, I suppose that since it directly involves you- "

"What?"

"Merlin, if you interrupt me one more time…"

"Sorry, Arthur."

"Uther…" Arthur seemed to make a decision in his head. "My father has his suspicions that _you_ are homosexual."

Merlin's heart hammered in his chest. He couldn't argue against that, could he? Not when it was the king who was accusing him, not to mention the fact that his inklings were true. "Oh, well… that's not as bad as it could get."

"Are you joking, Merlin?" Arthur raised one eyebrow, now only five feet from his servant. "If what he says you are is true then you'll never set foot in Camelot again! No exceptions. I bet they'd even…"

"They'd even what?"

"Nothing, Merlin." Arthur's reply was just a tiny bit too quick, and both men seemed to realise this.

There was a cold silence that lasted for a good five minutes. Merlin stayed where he was stood, hands behind his back, mind racing; Arthur paced, fidgeted and mumbled to himself.

"Arthur?" Merlin couldn't take the noiselessness any longer.

"Merlin?"

"I… your gloves will need repairing before you leave tonight." Merlin's eyes were riveted on the floor.

"Very well," Arthur did not stray a single pace from where he was stood, but motioned for Merlin to come over. He raised his hands slightly, and Merlin staggered forwards, hoping that Arthur wasn't just going to throw him in the dungeons anyway. After a moment of bewilderment, he realised with a wave of stupidity that Arthur needed him to remove the gloves. Merlin's shaking fingers loosened the ties at the wrist, and then pinched the tops of the fingers to pull them off – he could have sworn that Arthur's fingers twitched back against his, but that was just his head, as it always was.

He pocketed the gloves, but Arthur didn't step away. Merlin looked up quizzically. "Your shirt might need cleaning as well, Arthur," his voice was barely audible, even to the prince who was standing next to him.

Arthur's fingers ran quickly down the front of his shirt, flicking the buttons open one by one, before letting it drop to the floor at his feet. Merlin marvelled at the sight of his exposed chest, each plane of muscle, each individual hair… he swallowed shakily, risking a glance up into Arthur's eyes. They were burning with something that he had never seen in him before. "Merlin," he breathed, the sound of the prince saying his name in that way sending shivers down his spine.

Tentative touches ran along Merlin's jawline, and he saw Arthur's face move closer to his. Lips softly touched his neck, fingers creeping under his collar and loosening his scarf. He gasped, and managed to choke out, "Your breeches need… um-" before Arthur's warm mouth captured his.

Merlin's arms slid around the prince's neck, pulling their bodies closer together as Arthur's hands grasped at his hips, tugging at the hem of his shirt. He slid it up and over his head, before crashing their lips together again, both revelling in the feel of the other's body feeling so warm against their own.

Soon, they were a mess: sweaty and tightly tangled together on Arthur's bed. Panting heavily, Arthur rolled off of Merlin's chest and shut his eyes. Merlin dared not move a single muscle, and instead of moving stayed exactly where he was, feeling incredibly awkward. Did that really just happen?

Arthur swung his legs off of the bed, and ran a single hand through his golden hair, before retrieving his shirt from the floor where it had been neglected nearly an hour ago without any hint of emotion on his face. Merlin paused for little more than a second or two before getting his own clothes back. He was just approaching the door, tying his scarf behind his neck when two warm hands took over from his own.

"Do you know what would make me really happy?" Arthur breathed into Merlin's ear, lips just brushing against the skin there. Merlin nodded.

"If you'd actually get on with what I'm paying you to do, and prepare my armour for tonight." Arthur shoved Merlin out of the room by the small of his back. Merlin turned around to protest, but he was already closing the door, and he could have sworn that he saw a small wink before the oak door shut. He smiled to himself, shaking his head, before making his way to the armoury. _'Sometimes,_' he thought to himself, _'some rumours are worth investigating.'_


End file.
